Too much Mozart in Salzburg.

I’ve fallen in love with a copyrighted font.

The air of exodus is palpable as we walk through the thinning tents, people trudging uphill, the only ones not heading for the exits being—us!!

Total desolation.

I have developed (or perhaps caught) the recyclers’ instinct.

I’ve lived a life fairly sheltered from drugs in little rural Newport. So Glastonbury came as something of a surprise.

I realise that it’s something of a Glastonbury cliché to talk about the mud, but I think it would be remiss of me not to mention it.

After the briefest of sojourns at the family home, today was the day I departed for Glastonbury.

Photography, mime and Jesus.

Correlation does not always imply causation, as any even slightly good statistician knows.